The Legend of Roses: Pink Roses
by Saille Orinda
Summary: FFVI: A mysterious general, a promising young engineer, and General Leo caught right in the middle! Bwahaha.
1. Prologue

Pink Roses

Introduction

                "So, you want to hear a story."

                The woman who spoke very nearly materialized from inky shadows, appearing into the flickering candlelight as stars might appear in an evening sky.

                She raised an eyebrow.

                "They all do," she continued, "few would take such trouble to find their way here were it not for this desire. We are said to be the masters of wisdom and forgotten parables, are we not?"

                Whomever else she spoke of was nowhere to be seen. She was alone, alone in the stone hall whose ceiling disappeared into blackness above, making it impossible to tell the true height of the chamber. The only light came from hundreds of tall candles resting on elaborate wrought-iron stands, further cluttering a floor already strewn with pillows and throw rugs of rich velvet and silk, dyed thick shades of blue, amber, wine red, and forest green. Shelves stuffed with old books, glass vials, and gemstone charms lined the walls, while in the room's corners stood dozens of ancient, beautifully crafted weapons.

                In the center of the room a polished ebony table stood majestically, complimented by a matching high-backed chair. More candles rested on its surface alongside eight colored, crystal spheres arranged symmetrically and meticulously in the center of the table.

                The woman took her seat. Resting her elbows on the table and knitting her fingers together, she propped her chin on the back of her hands and stared absently at the colored orbs. Closer to the light, the flickering candles revealed long, solid black hair and glowing green eyes set into a narrow, delicate face of pale, brown, skin. Two miniature wings—yes wings—of leather sprouted from her head, just behind her ears. She stretched them lazily, folding and unfolding them in a thoughtful languor.

                She wore the robes of a priestess—though of what god or goddess it wasn't known; the decor of her chamber gave no indication. She also held the aura of a sorceress, but that was ridiculous; magic had long passed from this land.

                "I will tell a story," she said at length.

                She raised her eyes. "But it is not an easy story. The hero and heroines might very well be despised in their own rights. However," she continued, "am I correct in assuming my audience is not the shallow type?"

                She lowered her eyes again and smirked.

                "All right then, enough nonsense." Abruptly she stood. Every candle save those on the table in front of her was instantly snuffed, and the scent of smoke and incense filled the darkened air.  "I am the mistress of mysteries." The wings on her head twitched, and she retook her seat. "Listen closely, for this is my tale as well as any fool traveler's."

                With dark words, she began.

*              *              *

"Vector was a haunting city. As cold as a winter in the mines of Narshe, it held the mysticism and terror of a fairyland in a child's tale. Even in the conquered cities of the Southern Continent the citizens told their children of the dread capitol with the air of a ghost story—as if the real flesh-and-blood soldiers who now occupied their hometowns had stepped up from another world entirely and not from the city at the center of their continent.

                "And if this is how they whispered of the common soldiers who held them captive, dare we even speak of their commanders? Aged Emperor Gestahl skulked like a shadow in a tower, hidden behind cold, steel palace walls, the unseen hand of his oppression holding half the world in its inexorable grip. Satanic Kefka, Gestahl's chief advisor, his shrill laugh echoing the alleyways of all Vector and some said further—terror enough in itself to still the boldest heart. General Celes, whom some claimed was really a fabled Ice Nymph of Narshe, so cold and pure and terrible she was. General Razi, with eyes like green fire and hair like red wine, brandishing her sword of crystal. _Lilith, _they called her, succubus, temptress, serpent. And last, General Leo, the beautiful boy who should never have been a soldier, but a scholar, or priest, and whose emerald eyes seemed those of a ghost. While the maidens looked in longing as he passed them by the wise men would bow their heads in resign; here was one not long destined for this world…"


	2. A General and a Colonel

Chapter One

                Lilean Sette shaded her eyes against the late spring sun to better scan the garden. It was deserted, as usual, for what use had a military town for a rose garden? Still, for whatever reason it was kept, and kept quite meticulously for that matter. Perhaps it was that Gestahl had forgotten it in his old age, as he had forgotten so many things, after all, the garden was at the very edge of the palace grounds, almost two whole miles outside of Vector. The palace itself was located at the very northernmost point in the city, its main doors opening into the grandest square in Vector, and no city structures were to be built "higher"—that is, farther north, than it. The grounds, though, stretched far behind the cold, steel castle, a myriad of hundreds of gorgeous gardens. Lilean had never seen any groundskeepers, though; a mystery she shrugged off and added to the already long list of Vector's enigmas.

                She walked aimlessly along the gray stone paths, the raised plots of earth yielding dozens of tall rose bushes crowded with thick pink flowers in various stages of growth. Lilean grinned and fingered one of her own long pigtails, pink like the roses. She used to get teased because of her unusual hair color, but she'd always been fiercely proud of the brash, bright hue. "It's got personality," she'd retort curtly, with a practiced haughty air.

                While she thought, Lilean's feet had carried her to the edge of the garden, a well-crafted wrought-iron railing. The ground dropped off fairly sharply into a wide, stretching meadow, the forest still another few miles off, its trees misty deep green on the horizon. She leaned her elbows against the rail and cradled her head in her arms, closing her eyes. It had been a long day.

                Opening her eyes again after a moment, she realized she was not alone. Down the path, in the corner where two sides of the iron fencing met, General Leo stood absently, facing slightly away from Lilean, his fingers loosely knit together as he leaned against the rails. He had a distant expression on his face; he looked half asleep. The sun was setting on his other side and it made his skin look darker, his face hidden in shadow—almost silhouetted—while the light outlined him with a lurid orange glow. Lilean smiled. She'd known Leo for ages, as long as she could remember. In fact, she couldn't even remember meeting him for the first time—she had been six, he fourteen—and for kicks sometimes she had him tell her the story; how she'd been hopelessly lost in the big city and in the grips of despair when a gallant young soldier—himself—had bravely come to her rescue and taken her safely home to the orphanage and out of harm's way. She giggled. When she was younger it had seemed to her to have been just as the fairy tales the nurses had told her, of noble knights rescuing beautiful young damsels in distress. As a result she had infatuated herself with the talented future general. He'd always handled it well, and never ridiculed her in any way or pushed her away. In fact, they remained very close. Now, at sixteen (well, _almost sixteen) Lilean knew how silly her childhood fantasies had been. At least, she thought she did._

                "Why General Leo!" she exclaimed, a lilt in her voice, "what brings you all the way out here?"

                If she'd startled him, he did not show it. He looked over at her, smiling slightly.

                "I come here all the time, soon-to-be Lieutenant Lilean. It's a long walk, but worth every minute."

                She flushed a little.

                "So you heard about my promotion?"

                "Lilean, I knew it before almost anybody."

                "Before anybody?" she looked perplexed. "How?"

                He laughed.

                "Cid came to me with the suggestion first. I told him I thought it was an excellent idea."

                Lilean ran the rest of the way over and punched him in the shoulder.

                "So you knew and you never even bothered to tell me? How long?"

                "Oh, Cid approached me about fifteen months ago. Maybe even a year and a half."

                "You bastard!"

                Leo raised an eyebrow.

                "Lilean, such language!"

                "I grew up with soldiers. You expect me to speak politely?"

                The general smiled again.

                "Oh, Leo, I'm so excited!" Lilean continued, "I can't wait until December sixth! Um...the ceremony will be held on my birthday, right?"

                "Right. But don't expect anything too fancy, Lilean. After all, keep in mind that while 'lieutenant' may sound like a lot, it's really not that important in the eyes of most."

                She sighed. "I know. But that doesn't mean I can't get excited! I mean, I'll be in charge of the Magitek Factory! The whole thing! Cid said he wanted to be able to focus on his research in the MRF, which makes sense. He never truly loved building machines, I mean, he is the Head _Scientist_ after all, not 'Head Engineer.' "

                The Magitek Research Facility, or MRF, was the pride and joy—and for some, the greatest fear—of Vector. It was a state-of-the-art, enormous, and elaborately equipped scientific laboratory, built for the specific purposes of studying magic and those mysterious creatures that possessed it, the Espers. Since the Espers had long since sealed themselves away from humankind in a different world altogether, obtaining some had been difficult and how Gestahl had done it remained a mystery. The Espers that Gestahl had managed to capture were contained within the MRF, in a secret, highly guarded laboratory room. Each Esper was locked, suspended unconscious within a sealed crystal tube. Only a handful of the highest officials in Vector and a very few MRF researchers had access to that room, however, everybody knew it existed and that the Espers were there. Gestahl made no secret of his intentions to form an army of Magitek Knights who could pilot the enormous, magical suits of armor Kefka had invented, or of his dream of sorcerer foot soldiers. The only way armor or humans could posses magic was to drain it from an Esper and infuse it into either one.

                Attached to the MRF—downstairs from it, really—was the equally amazing Magitek Factory, where the suits of Magitek Armor were manufactured. Nobody really knew truly how large the Factory was; its corridors and catwalks were said to extend for miles underground.

                Lilean grinned a bit maliciously. "I can't wait to boss people around! I'll teach them to call me shrimp!"

                Leo smiled and shook his head. He looked back toward the west, watching the dying light of the sun, waiting for the orange in the sky to become muted yellow. In the east, the sky was already dark, and the first evening stars could be seen shining over the horizon.

                "I think it's best we returned, now," he murmured. "Tomorrow's a busy day." He turned to look at Lilean. "Are you ready to go?"

                She nodded, and they began to walk back to the city.

*              *              *

                Lilean rose early the next morning. Since the announcement of her impending promotion, she had received her own room in one of the officers' dorms. True, it was tiny, since she would only be a lieutenant, but she didn't mind. In her previous accommodation, her last roommate had been a soldier, a crazy, bloodthirsty girl who had constantly sleepwalked, battling shades of the rebellious Returners in the dead of night.

                What a nuisance _she_ had been.

                The sun was up already, despite the early hour, a testimony to the fact that summertime was fast approaching. Lilean stretched and retrieved her white uniform from where she'd tossed it over the back of a chair the previous night. Her room was a mess, as always. She felt no particular inclination to keep it tidy. Why would she? She already knew where everything was, anyway.

                She dressed and brushed out her hair, pleating the thick, pink locks into braids with practiced ease. After washing her face she grabbed her bag and left, locking her door behind her. She descended the stairs at the end of the hallway to the cafeteria, where some other officers were sullenly eating their breakfasts. As she passed them on her way to the table where the food was set out, a few of them raised their heads. A captain who looked to be in his mid-thirties whistled loudly and cat-called.

                "Look at you, young thing! All alone and away from home. I can keep you warm at night if you're feeling too scared by yourself…"

                Lilean made a disgusted face at him. Two older colonels sneered at her. They spoke just loudly enough for her to hear.

                "I don't know what the Emperor is thinking promoting all these children. How can they possibly know anything at all about war? At least she's only a lieutenant, nothing special, not like that boy that was made general…"

                Lilean's face flushed with anger. She knew that "that boy" they spoke of was Leo, and even though it was now over four years since he was promoted they were still bitter. In their eyes it should have been one of them, and they remained insanely jealous. They would never voice their hatred to him, though. They knew better. Leo was general, after all. 

                Lilean whirled around to face them.

                "Shut up," she snarled, "you're all worn out. You worthless, jealous colonels! If you had been worth making general when you were twenty, you would have been one! Don't you dare talk about Leo like that in my presence!"

                The atmosphere in the cafeteria suddenly went still. One of the colonels stood up slowly, a malicious look in his eye.

                "Well, lookee here. This little girl seems to have some ideas, and some affections for that boy general. He is quite a handsome young man, isn't he?"

                The colonel took a step toward her. Nobody else moved. Lilean's breath quickened.

                "What you don't seem to realize, though," the colonel continued, "is that, while you will be a lieutenant shortly, you're not yet. And even so, for an inferior officer, you're much too headstrong. I think a little discipline might be in order…"

                Lilean clenched her teeth and held her head high. She wouldn't let him see her fear, no, she'd rather die—

                "Colonel Colway you may sit back down."

                The colonel stopped short and raised his head, looking past Lilean. His malevolent glare instantly dissolved into an expression of shock. Lilean craned her head around. What was he looking at?

                The woman who'd spoken shook her head.

                "Lilean, can't you ever manage to stay out of trouble? You seem to be drawn to it like a moth to the flame. You do realize that one of these days you will get burned."

                Lilean cast her eyes downward.

                "Yes, Celes, I know."

                General Celes was sixteen years old. Rather odd, it seems, that Colonel Colway had chosen Leo, who was eight years older than Celes, to complain about, and not her. In truth, it wasn't strange. Celes was born to command. Tall, blonde, beautiful, cold, and hard as granite, Celes was a product of the Magitek Research Facility—a genetically engineered warrior, her cells artificially imbibed with the magic of Shiva; ice. She was both a Mage Warrior and a Magitek Knight. She had been created to lead the finest forces of the Empire. To be general was her destiny, her fate. Everything about her commanded respect in the form of fear.

                Lilean did not fear her.

                Celes' eyes strayed back to Colonel Colway. "I said you may sit back down."

                The Colonel swallowed hard and took his seat slowly. He turned his eyes downward, and did not look back up.

                Lilean looked upwards. Her eyes met Celes'. This time she held her gaze. A slight smirk turned the corner of Celes' lips.

                "You haven't changed, Lilean Sette," Celes told the soon-to-be lieutenant. "I don't think you ever will."

                Lilean lifted her chin defiantly. "I defend the people I care for. I always will."

                Not a muscle moved on Celes' face, but a glimmer of warmth shone through in her eyes of icy blue, and the slight smile on her face turned genuine.

                "Don't."

                Lilean started up, indignant. "Don't what?"

                Celes' smile broadened, ever so slightly.

                "Don't change."

                Lilean blinked, surprised, and said nothing.

                Celes nodded once at her, in acknowledgment, and turned to leave.

                "Good day, my friend."


	3. Bad Times

Chapter 2

                A gentle breeze blew across a deserted outdoor arena. Deserted except for Leo who stood alone in the middle leaning casually against his sword.

                "Interesting meeting," he said to himself. "And today, too."  He ran his fingers absently through his crew-cut blond hair. Technically, Razi wasn't late. Razi was never late. He was just early. Leo scanned the eastern horizon, broken only by a few scattered buildings. Off to the west was the center of the city, where scores of people would be crowding the streets, out on their way to work or doing their morning shopping. Leo grimaced slightly when he thought of all the bustle and confusion. Here, out in the arenas used for Magitek testing, it was quiet. Nothing would be happening here for a few more hours.

                Leo sighed, and spoke aloud. "The peace here is refreshing."

                "Isn't it, though," a voice responded, "shame it's not going to last long."

                He turned rather deliberately to face General Razi Desdemona. She was dressed impeccably as always, in a solid black uniform. There were no markings on it, save for the gold buttons and red trim on her jacket, and a single red stripe on the outside of each pant leg, a marking that distinguished the rank of "officer." Leo also wore the striped-red, black pants, but he preferred a plain green officer's jacket to the black, dress uniform. He would only grudgingly don the full black uniform for ceremonies and special occasions. The only indication of their status as generals either of them wore was the four gold stars pinned just below the right shoulder of their jackets.

"You know, Razi, I've become so used to you sneaking up on me that it doesn't even surprise me anymore."

                "Congratulations, Leo. Though in my opinion it was an inevitable consequence—"

                "—Of me having to put up with you so much."

                Razi shrugged. She tossed her head to the side, swinging shoulder-length, wine-red colored hair out of her face.

                "I suppose you could say that. I would have preferred 'Of me having been blessed with your presence for so long.'"

                "I guess you would have, Razi." He shouldered his sword. "Might I inquire as to why you have requested my presence here this morning?"

                This provoked a raised eyebrow from Razi.

                "No need to be so formal, Leo, but if you insist on it, then you might as well start calling me 'General.'"

                "In that case you'd have to call me 'General' as well, but you haven't answered my question, Razi."

                "Well, the answer to that is really quite simple, Leo. I wanted to practice my fencing on a worthy opponent."

                Razi unsheathed her sword with a swish and examined the blade, which was not made of steel like traditional swords. Instead, it was made of some type of translucent crystal. Very bizarre, but it created a beautiful effect. Sometimes it acted as a window, giving a slightly distorted view of the landscape behind it, and sometimes it acted as a mirror. That was disturbing. It wasn't encouraging to see your own face reflected in the blade of your opponent's sword. It didn't bode well for you. Somehow, someway, Leo felt that Razi had made it like that on purpose.

                He watched her test the sword's weight and adjust her grip. She ran her fingers along the quillion, a pair of fine black-feathered wings. Two golden snakes entwined themselves into a beautiful swept hilt. Leo made no attempt to hide his admiration of the weapon. As a trained expert in these things he knew good swords when he saw them and Razi's was one of the best. It was a court rapier, thin and light for dueling and fencing, but she never used another sword for any purpose, even combat. One would think she'd prefer a heavier sword rapier for actual fighting, but she didn't. Her crystal blade was obviously stronger than it looked.

                Unexpectedly Razi whirled around, arm and sword extended, to stop suddenly, her sword point held quivering, fractions of an inch from Leo's throat.

                He raised an eyebrow.

                "I wish you wouldn't do that, Razi."

                "Somebody has to keep you on your toes, Leo." She lowered the sword. "I wouldn't want my former student to go soft on me now, would I?"

                "I suppose not."

                "Shall we duel?"

                "Of course, Razi." He unsheathed his own sword—a large, double-handed, double-edged blade over four feet in total length. He'd made it himself, and it wasn't an overly artsy weapon, like Razi's. Oh, it had it's own unique qualities, but they weren't ones you could see. Leo held the sword ready in front of him.

                "One more question, though," he said.

                "Yes?"

                "I have a hard time believing that you dragged me all the way out here this early in the morning, and today, of all days, just for fencing—"

                "Oh, do you now?"

                "—So what's the _real reason I'm here, Razi?"_

                Suddenly she was in front of him, brandishing her sword and attacking. Leo was nearly caught off guard. Metal clanged against crystal as he blocked and stepped back to give himself more room.

                "Very nice, Leo, and, as it is, you are correct."

                She swung again, he countered and stepped again, falling easily into the familiar fencing pattern. Razi was starting out easy, testing him. He smiled inwardly.

                "I did not call you out here solely for fencing," Razi said as she neatly blocked a thrust and in the same movement launched her own counter-attack. "I have a few things I wish to discuss with you, and, though they may seem typical, it's better that I am not heard by prying ears."

                "Oh really?" Leo stepped backwards, his eyes never leaving Razi's sword. "Now I'm curious. Fire away."

                "I hear that Cid's finally going to have some help in managing the Magitek Factory," she began, never missing a beat.

                "Yes, he is," Leo replied, matching her every move.

                "This girl being promoted—what was her name?"

                "Lilean Sette."

                "Ah yes, Lilean. Cid seems happy to be able to turn some of the managerial responsibilities over to her," Razi said, feinting to the right.

                "He is," Leo answered, concentrating on Razi's attack. "He's got a tough job."

                "Then this Lilean must be rather…special, I suppose. Otherwise, wouldn't it seem just a bit odd to put a sixteen-year-old in charge of the Magitek Factory?"

                Leo paused before answering, concentrating on their mock battle. Razi was picking up the pace, challenging him. Her blows were falling faster, her moves becoming more difficult to block. Slowly Razi was eradicating the possibility of being able to recover from a mistake.

                "It would, I guess," he answered at length, "but Lilean is more than just another sixteen-year-old girl. Cid tells me she's the most brilliant student he's ever had."

                "How intriguing." Razi sounded anything but intrigued. "But still…sixteen years old. The ceremony is scheduled for her birthday, correct?"

                "Correct." Leo had a sneaking suspicion that she had already known the answer to her own question.

                "Still, I wonder," Razi replied thoughtfully, almost absently, "How wise can it be? The MRF and Factory are our proudest creations, can we afford any errors?"

                "What makes you think she will make any errors? Celes hasn't, and she's a sixteen-year-old general." A bead of sweat broke out on Leo's brow. Razi was getting ruthless. Mistakes were now completely out of the question.

                "Celes is a genetically engineered soldier. She was created to be what she is. Lilean was nothing more than a common orphan girl pulled off the street. So she can use magic. All those who work in the MRF or Factory were infused, so that ability is nothing special. Currently Lilean's a loudmouthed, arrogant, fifteen-year-old girl with a real problem for authority. No matter how brilliant Cid says she is—you think she can actually do this job?"

                CLANG!

                "Very _nice, Leo." Razi looked impressed. She lowered her sword. "I was half-convinced I'd gotten you."_

                "You almost had." He pointed his sword at her. "That's enough for the moment; I've got a question for you, now."

                "Go ahead."

                "Why are you asking me of Lilean? You already seem to know all about her, and to have formed an opinion." His voice was hard.

                Razi smiled. It wasn't a particularly nice smile.

                "Oh, Leo whatever have I done to offend you so...?"

                "Just answer the question."

                "Well, I could say that I'm just curious. She _is quite the star in both the MRF and Factory, you know."_

                "You don't concern yourself with those things."

                "Is that an order, Leo?"

                He frowned, and lowered his sword point.

                "Don't be so difficult, Razi."

                "Who's the one being difficult? Don't keep interrupting me."

                Leo was silent.

                "As I was saying, Leo, I'm just a bit curious. A sixteen-year-old to be in charge of the most advanced technological engineering facility to be built since the War of the Magi? Many wonder if it's wise."

                "What do you want with her?"

                Razi examined her blade. A sly smile tugged the corners of her lips.

                "Rumor is, Leo, that you're the catalyst behind Miss Sette's rather sudden and spectacular ascent."

                "It was Cid's idea." Leo was getting frustrated. "All I did was say I thought it was a _good_ idea."

                "And what made you think, Leo, that it would be such a good idea?" Razi cocked her head to the side.

                "I _know_ her Razi. I know what she's capable of." Leo's frustration was giving way to anger.

                Abruptly Razi straightened. Her eyes bored into him, twin orbs of green fire, that cunning smile still pulling her lips. She lifted her sword, slowly, deliberately, and tipped up Leo's chin with its point. He glared down the blade at her, his own emerald-green eyes narrowed, suspicious.

                "Oh I see. You…_know_ her."

                A moment's pause, then Leo realized what she meant. In one sweeping movement, he swung his sword, meaning to violently knock her blade away. She was too quick for him, though, and there was no ring of steel against crystal, only the whoosh of the wind as Leo's sword slashed at thin air.

                "Listen hard, Razi. I will say this slowly. _I think of her as my sister._ Nothing more. Do you understand?"

                Razi rested the flat of her blade on her shoulder, a smug grin on her face. "Oh I understand, Leo. Don't worry, _I_ understand. But…do the others?"

                "What others? What are you talking about?"

                Razi turned to leave, her sword still on her shoulder.

                "Don't you walk away from me, Razi Desdemona."

                She looked back at him over her shoulder.

                "Now it is your turn to listen hard, Leo Christophe. Four years ago you were made general, at a mere twenty years of age. You, who was nothing more than a common boy with common parents put into training when he was ten for future use as a mindless soldier. You can't use magic; you refuse infusion. You are suspicious of it. You are a swordsman, a master swordsman, but a swordsman only. You are a shrewd and talented strategist of traditional warfare. You are honest, you are noble." She pointed her sword at him again. "You are everything this empire has no use for."

                Leo glared hard at her, teeth clenched, her sword point sharp against his chest. "Funny you should tell me this now. Or have you forgotten that _you_ were the one who pulled me out of that mindless soldier training? You became my sole instructor, I your sole pupil. If I am truly 'everything this empire has no use for,' then why did you choose me, and why did you train me as you did? With the instruction you gave me, I don't need magic."

                She lowered her sword and turned her head away from him, closing her eyes and smiling a cruel smile. Leo found his eyes examining her profile, hating himself for it but staring nonetheless at those long, black lashes swept downward against smooth, pale skin. The fine, silky, wine-red hair that framed her narrow face, and those sensuous lips as red as fresh blood spilled on white marble…

                "Desire, Leo." Her eyes opened, ever so slightly. She watched him, but did not turn her head. "I do not answer to you, General. But it is desire I warn you of, desire and jealousy. You do not 'know' Lilean Sette, not in the fashion I implied. That behavior is below you. You have a good reputation. And there are those, those jealous of you and your rank, your privilege, who desire to ruin you, through any means possible. Beginning with rumors, many rumors, and ending…where? Well, the future is unknown." She took a step away from Leo, then turned and looked at him one last time. "And, speaking of the future, I'm sure you remember that we have a rather important guest arriving today. Be in the Plaza by nine o'clock…and don't forget to change your clothes."

                Without a further word she turned and left, her slender figure disappearing as she descended the stairs to the arena's exit. Leo swore and checked the time. The guest Razi spoke of was none other than King Edgar Roni Figaro himself. The King paid only infrequent diplomatic visits to the capital of the Empire he had allied with since his coronation eight years ago, so his two-week-long stay was something of an event. Leo, however, was not overly fond of Edgar, and really hadn't done as much as he probably should have to prepare for the welcome of the young king. He told himself it wasn't his job, which was true, but as one of three generals, some formalities were expected of him, including proper attire. Resigned to his fate, he trudged off towards his home to change into that accursed black, formal uniform.

*              *              *

                Head Scientist Cid hunched over his desk, intently examining for about the fifth time notes on the previous weeks' research. He sighed and pressed his fingers to his forehead; it was too early in the morning to be occupied like this. Resting his chin in his hand he gazed at the far wall of his office, covered completely by bookshelves containing every bit and scrap of research he and his team had done on Espers since Gestahl had returned from the Sealed Gate, sixteen years ago. It was all meticulously organized into chronologically advancing volumes, sometimes a dozen or more per year. Every note was dated down to the minute and accompanied by detailed sketches and sometimes photographs. Cid glanced dejectedly downwards at the haphazard jumble of observations and conclusions sprawled on his desk. It was nearly December; soon it would be time to organize all of this year's files into volumes and place them on the shelf, next to the others. He sighed again. He was _not_ looking forward to that task.

                Cid turned his head to the side, staring at the wall to his right, also covered in bookshelves. One half of those shelves was devoted to the Magitek Factory, containing blueprints and designs for suits of Magitek Armor, notes on their performance, testing, ideas for new prototypes, etc. Looking at all that, he felt decided relief that Lilean would soon be promoted. She was a talented scientist, but a fantastically gifted mechanic and engineer. In fact, some of the blueprints for experimental prototypes had been designed by her and her alone. Once she became lieutenant, Cid planned to put the entire Factory under her direct control. Both the Research Facility and the Factory had become too much for him to handle alone, and he was rather the opposite of Lilean, being much more gifted in the realm of scientific research than in mechanics or engineering. Lilean's youth didn't worry him at all. He knew she wasn't afraid to take charge, and everyone who worked in the Factory knew well her brilliance.

 Cid's eyes slid downward, toward the other half of the shelves. Several volumes lined one shelf, three labeled "Celes," four labeled "Kefka," and sixteen labeled "Tina."

                Cid closed his eyes and put his head in both of his hands. Below that shelf, he knew, were great filing cabinets containing records on every magic user in Vector—every soldier, child, officer, or employee ever infused. None of them were terribly significant, the records were updated little and kept, for the most part, as a formality. The twenty-three volumes on the shelf above the cabinets were different, though. Cid clenched his teeth as he thought of those volumes—records kept on the most powerful magic users in Vector.__

                He looked back at the volumes labeled with the three names. As he read Celes' name he felt a pang of…what? Guilt? Grief? Cid couldn't help it as he thought of Celes, his own foster-daughter. Genetically engineered, the cells of her embryo had been infused with magic, and the ability had become a part of her before she'd even been an infant.

Cid had taken it upon himself to raise her and loved her dearly but she had always been distant…cold as the magic of Shiva's ice in which she'd been steeped. Since being made general in March, she'd left to live on her own, and Cid barely even saw her now.

                Kefka…there were four volumes on Kefka, as opposed to Celes' three. Though they had been infused with magic at the same time, there was one extra volume required for him. Celes had been barely more than a mass of cells at the infusion, Kefka a grown man. At that time the process had not yet been perfected for adults, and something had gone terribly wrong. Cid shuddered to think of it.

The fourth volume chronicled Kefka's steady descent into madness.

                Cid didn't even look at any of the volumes labeled "Tina." _Gestahl's greatest prize_, he thought bitterly. Tina, the half-Esper, half-human girl the Emperor had somehow managed to capture as a war trophy during his raid on the Sealed Gate. She was sixteen years old now and subject to endless scientific tests—there was one thick volume for each year of her life. It troubled Cid that he wasn't in charge of the research on Tina. Kefka had insisted that he and his team be in charge, not Cid. It made the Head Scientist shudder to think what Kefka might be doing to that poor girl.

                Abruptly the door to the office banged open. Cid, jerking himself out of his reverie, whirled around to see who it was.

                "Lilean. You're late."

                "I know Cid. Sorry. I, uh, ran into Celes this morning at breakfast…there was a little trouble…" The pink-haired soon-to-be-officer scratched the back of her head and fidgeted.

                "What?" Cid jumped out of his chair, "You ran into trouble with Celes?"

                "No, no! Not like that!" Lilean waved hands and glared at Cid. "I mean…Celes…got me out of trouble."

                "And why were you in trouble?" Cid crossed his arms.

                "Some stupid colonel was being a jerk. So I yelled at him." Lilean defiantly stuck her nose in the air.

                "You yelled at a colonel?" Cid was incredulous. "Lilean, you're not even an _officer_ yet!"

                "So?"

                "So?" Cid couldn't believe this. "So you're damn lucky Celes helped you out! Think of what could have happened to you if she hadn't shown up! You could have been court-martialed for insubordination! Then what would you have done?"

                Lilean crossed her arms. "I would have told the court martial that I'd yelled at Colonel Colway because he'd been talking shit about General Leo. _His _superior." Lilean looked up at Cid smugly. Cid glared at her and shook his head.

"Sometimes I think you're too smart for your own good."

                Lilean grinned, but her smile faded quickly. Cid creased his eyebrows in concern.

                "What's wrong?"

                Lilean cast her eyes downward and sighed.

                "I couldn't help thinking…I mean it…it just makes me sad, Cid. Seeing Celes this morning, I mean. We used to be such good friends, but now…since her promotion I don't even know her anymore. She's so distant, now."

                "I know, Lilean." Cid grimaced. "It's hard. I wish it didn't have to be this way, but…there's nothing either of us can do."

                Lilean nodded slowly. After a moment she looked up at him and said,

                "So, what work is there for me?"

                Cid smiled wanly down at her. Strong girl, she was.

                "Actually," he began, "I've got a special assignment for you. It's not until next week, though."

                Immediately Lilean brightened.

                "Oh, really? What's that?"

*              *              *

The tap of boot heels announced the procession winding its way through the corridors of the Imperial Palace. It wasn't an exceptionally grand showing. Emperor Gestahl and Kefka led the way while making small talk with a polite, but obviously cool King Edgar. Directly behind them Razi and Leo followed, side by side, in silence. Behind them marched a mixture of Imperial Guards and common soldiers, who were there mostly for show. Celes had been present at Edgar's arrival, but was now absent from this ridiculous formality. Leo made a mental note to ask her how she'd managed to get out of it next time he saw her.

                Technically Kefka should have followed Razi and Leo, as he was lower ranked than they were. Razi, however, had decided to walk behind him and Leo had followed suit. He wasn't exactly dying to fake a conversation with Edgar, so if Kefka wanted to, he was more than welcome. Leo also desperately wanted to unbutton the high collar of his dress-uniform's jacket, as he wore his preferred green jacket, but of course he couldn't do that. How he despised being a general sometimes. All the formalities made him wish Razi had never picked him out for officer's training eleven years ago. They'd all go off to some office somewhere, have coffee and wine (what a _horrible _ combination), Razi would get out her cigarettes, smoke up the whole room until you were sure you'd be suffocated, and they'd talk politics for half the day. Politics. Hell. He had work to do.

                Gestahl motioned all following him to stop. The Guards and soldiers were dismissed, and the five people who remained filed into a lavishly furnished drawing room of some sort. No matter how hard the decorators tried, though, they could never quite mask the eerie feeling the whole palace held. Of course, the fact that it was fashioned and built almost entirely out of metal didn't do much to give the palace a warm, welcoming effect.

                Leo sat down in one of the chairs that surrounded an excessively large, mahogany coffee table, and tried not to "plop" down too heavily. He resisted the urge to massage his forehead, crossed his ankles, and stretched out his legs. Razi took the seat across from him, on the other side of the table, and Kefka sat to her right. Edgar, Leo noticed with just the slightest bit of chagrin, took the chair on his left, across from Kefka. Gestahl sat at the head of the table, as expected. A maidservant entered with a tray of the predicted coffee and wine, and Edgar flashed her such a brilliant smile Leo worried for a moment he'd be blinded. Across from him, Razi deliberately lifted her eyebrows and pulled out her cigarette case. The maid blushed bright red at Edgar and was caught off guard until Razi coughed rather violently to inform her of her undesired presence. Still blushing, she hurried out of the room.

                "Wine, King Edgar?" Razi asked, more loudly than she needed to.

                "Why of course, my dear," he answered, just a tad suggestively.

                "'General,'" Razi corrected him as she uncorked the bottle of wine.

                "Hmm?" Edgar seemed puzzled.

                "I am generally addressed as 'General,' King Edgar."

                Edgar was a bit taken aback at this, but Razi's tone did not invite further questioning. She handed him his glass of wine.

                "Anything you'd like, Leo? Wine?" she asked. She chose a cigarette and snapped the case shut, returning it to a pocket in the skirt of her jacket.

                "Just coffee," Leo answered.

                "Sugar? Cream?"

                "Black."

                The corner of Razi's lip twitched. She knew well how much Leo despised these socializations. For one thing, it meant he had to wear his dress uniform. She poured some coffee into a cup for him, and handed it over.

                "Anything for you, Kefka?" she asked as she placed the cigarette between her lips and reached for her matches.

                "Just give me the bottle."

                "Not going to share?" The cigarette wagged up and down as she spoke.

                "I meant I would pour it myself."

                "Ah. Specifications next time would be appreciated." Orange flame flared up from the end of the match as she struck it and lit her cigarette. The spent match was placed in the ashtray. She inhaled deeply, removed the cigarette from her lips, exhaled a cloud of wispy, gray smoke and turned to Gestahl.

                "Your Highness." She smiled. "Something to drink?"

                "A glass of wine, as usual, Razi." He smiled surreptitiously at the eldest of his generals.

                "As you wish." Razi didn't bat an eye. She served him and Gestahl inclined his head towards her.

                Leo could see Edgar struggling to comprehend what was going on here. Every word spoken, every move made by Razi was deliberate and calculated, as were Gestahl's, Kefka's, and even his own. This was all a show, a game, lines memorized, timing perfected, rules read and rehearsed. And here Edgar was, thrown blindly into the middle of it all. Underneath the front of polite hospitality burned hostilities and power plays, pushed levers and pulled strings. The atmosphere sparked tension, electricity in the air thick enough to taste. Edgar's eyes slid from one Vectorian official to another, trying to see underneath their masks, trying to decipher the strange code of looks, gestures, words, and actions.

First that intriguing general. She had poured a glass of wine for herself, but it was yet untouched. Very tall, but very thin, she looked as if one could break her in two, but Edgar had no doubt who would be the loser in a fight picked with her. The darkness of the room and the smoke curling around her head from the cigarette made her hair appear almost black, but he could see that it was actually about the same color and shade as the burgundy wine he held in his own glass. She had an underhand, dark kind of beauty that was strangely magnetic in quality. He watched as she lifted the cigarette held lightly between her long fingers to her lips and took a drag. She tipped her head back and gently blew smoke out above her, sending still more silver tendrils into the air. As she lowered her head, Edgar managed to catch her eye.

                To say her eyes were emerald green was an understatement. Saying her eyes burned like green fire was getting closer, but really nothing could describe their intense, hypnotic quality. The burning tip of the cigarette paled in comparison to her eyes, two glittering jewels that were positively alive. Hers was the kind of gaze from which one could hide no secrets. She smiled at him. Edgar swallowed hard.

                Then there was Kefka.

                Where to start with him? Edgar had met him a few times before. He was not anybody's favorite person. Long blond hair tied back in a ponytail—like his own, as a matter of fact—but unlike Edgar's blue-green eyes, Kefka's were crimson red, the color of blood. He was like a sinister clown with his sweeping, wide-sleeved green robes belted at his waist. The contrast of his white gloves and facial make-up gave him the pallor of a corpse and made it almost impossible to judge his true age. He was insane, mind warped when his infusion with magic had gone irreversibly wrong. Edgar felt decided relief that Kefka lived all the way in Vector, far, far from his own kingdom of Figaro.

                Gestahl himself was not in any way an intriguing or interesting character. He was a jaded, greedy ruler, made even more so by his own aging. As Gestahl grew older he clung to the lives of those around him in his Empire with more force, with more power. He wanted to control everything, wanted to rule everything, was afraid of dying and leaving nothing as his mark. He had ordered the murders of Edgar's parents, Edgar knew that well, and despised Gestahl and his Empire for it. Proof, however, was virtually non-existent. Unconsciously Edgar tightened his grip around his wine glass. That bastard. He'd pay for what he'd done, Edgar had sworn it to himself the night of his coronation, the day after his brother had left to pursue his own life. That had been eight years ago, and still Edgar remained false ally to this Empire, playing a dangerous political game that took every bit of determination and will he possessed.

                Catty-cornered across from him Razi watched the young king struggle with his emotions as he regarded Gestahl. She rather admired his will. _He's a good actor, she thought, __and a charmer, for sure. I've no doubt he's got Gestahl fooled. Kefka maybe, too._

                But not her.

                Whether or not she cared that he was an unreliable ally, though, was a different matter.

                Edgar stared down into his wine glass. And then there was that young general who sat next to him, Leo, it was. He had been sent up to Figaro about four years ago, shortly after his promotion, on a diplomatic assignment and had blown everybody out of the water. The citizens of Figaro and South Figaro detested the Empire, but they had adored handsome, twenty-year-old Leo. Edgar watched him out of the corner of his eye. He hadn't seen Leo since then, and had no idea what he might be like now. The young man sat rather dejectedly in his chair, normally bright green eyes dull and half closed, cup of coffee half finished, steam curling up into the air around him and mingling with the smoke drifting over from Razi's cigarette. His sun blond hair contrasted starkly against his darkly tanned skin and black uniform. Edgar remembered him well, he had a bright smile and a knack for finding more than satisfactory solutions to problems everybody else had already given up on. A peacemaker, so it seemed_. Leo may truly be intent on finding ways around fighting bloody battles_, Edgar thought, _but he is a general, and quite a famous one at that_. He was also an excellent swordsman and reputed to be an even better strategist. And in order to be a good strategist, one must know how to deceive.

                _So Edgar's sizing me up. The thought drifted lazily through Leo's head. He could tell by the way Razi was looking at him, smirking a little over the rim of her glass. Her eyes had darted once over towards the young king, telling Leo exactly what he hadn't cared to know. That's why she had done it; she loved to make people nervous. But by now Leo had descended too far into hell to care. When would this end? The sad thing was Razi hadn't even finished with her first cigarette. His eyes fell fully shut, and he took another sip of coffee._

                "Tired, Leo?" That seductive voice.

                "A bit Razi," he answered, not looking up.

                "Didn't I let you get enough sleep last night, General?" Razi lowered her eyes and looked up to the side through her lashes, to catch Edgar's reaction. The King looked as if he'd rather he hadn't heard that last comment.

                "If you're worried about my sleeping patterns, Razi," Leo knew exactly what she was trying to pull, "then maybe next time you should schedule the fencing match for the afternoon, and not the early morning."

                Edgar visibly relaxed. Razi chuckled. "So, King Edgar," she said, "you haven't paid a visit here in quite some time, have you? Three years, I believe."

                King Edgar nodded. "That's right."

                "Three years." Razi leaned forward and stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray. Leo conspicuously ignored the fact that Edgar had taken the event of Razi's bending over to clandestinely check out her cleavage. She caught him at it.

                "Apparently Vector's not the only thing you've been missing these last three years, King Edgar."

                The glib, smooth, unabashed and lecherous King was, for once, struck speechless. Leo coughed violently to try and cover a laugh. It didn't work. Gestahl looked up.

                "Are you feeling all right, Leo?"

                Leo nodded, still coughing.

                "I just...inhaled some coffee, sir," Leo answered, finally managing to get his "coughing" under control.

                Gestahl nodded.

                Edgar's own expression was flat as a pancake.

                Razi serenely sipped her wine.

                "Well, I apologize for the delay, I'm afraid Head Scientist Cid presented me with the latest research results from the MRF yesterday afternoon, and this is the first chance I've had to discuss them with Kefka here," Gestahl announced rather smoothly.

                Dispassionate nods from Razi and Leo. Edgar tried hard not to stare. _How often do they go through this?_

                "As it is," Gestahl continued, "there are a few issues that need discussing, such as..."

                Inwardly Leo let out a dejected, defeated sigh. _Here come the politics... Across from him, the corner of Razi's mouth twitched slightly. Over the top of her glass she mouthed at him, __Welcome to hell, General._

                Leo scowled and poured himself more coffee. Black, as usual.

*              *              *

                "You want me to do WHAT?"

                Lilean gaped at Cid, disbelieving. "No way! I refuse!"

                "Lilean, King Edgar is as talented a technician as yourself. He loves machinery. He would be very pleased—"

                "I don't care whether or not he'd be pleased!" Her indignant, tangerine-colored eyes flashed. "Do I look like a tour guide to you? I'm almost a lieutenant!"

                "Lilean, listen. That's just it. Once you're promoted I'm going to put you in charge of the Factory. And as the Factory's supervisor, there are certain formalities expected of you. Furthermore, Edgar is King of Figaro, and not just any tour guide will do."

                "I'm not supervisor yet! Why don't _you_ do it, then, Cid?"

                Even through his frustration with the girl, he managed to smile at Lilean.

                "Because I'm not nearly as good with the machines as you are. Lilean, you're the most talented engineer we have. You know the Factory better than I do, and I helped design it! You're just simply the best for the job."

                The flood of compliments caught Lilean off guard.

                "I am, aren't I?" she said thoughtfully.

                "Yes, you are. So, then, be here by seven…"

                "You didn't hear me say, 'Yes, Cid, I'll do it,' yet, did you?"

                Cid's patience finally wore through. He put his hands on his hips.

                "Let's just put it this way: You don't have a choice."

                Looking into Cid's eyes, Lilean knew she'd lost. She grunted her consent.

                "Good, then," Cid continued. "Be here by seven o'clock Monday morning. The tour starts at seven-thirty, but I want to introduce you and King Edgar first. The only thing you need to know is that the King has a lunch engagement at twelve-thirty, so you need to be finished before then. And the MRF is off limits; the tour is of the Factory only. But you know that."

                Lilean nodded dejectedly. "Yes, sir."

                Cid checked the clock on the wall, "Time to get to work, Lilean."

                Again Lilean nodded dejectedly as she followed Cid out of the office.

*              *              *

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine.

                Nine.

                That's how many of Razi's cigarette butts were stubbed out in the ashtray, and it wasn't as if she smoked them one right after another. She waited at least a good ten minutes between lights and took another ten minutes to smoke each one. So, then. Twenty minutes per cigarette times nine equaled one hundred and eighty minutes.

                Three hours.

                _Three hours._

                Leo sank still lower in his chair and let the low buzz of voices fly around his head. He had contributed to the conversation as was expected of him, but Edgar's own interests inevitably turned the talk to technology and the Magitek Factory, something neither Leo nor Razi really had much to do with. That was Kefka, Gestahl, and Cid's domain. Too bad Cid wasn't here now, maybe he'd be willing to trade places. He looked up. Razi didn't seem unduly bothered by the fact that no one had said anything to her in about half an hour. Then again, she was much more detached than he was. She was just so _strange.  She smoked like a chimney, drank like a fountain, and was arguably the most promiscuous officer in Vector. The branch of the military that fell under Razi's direct control was Intelligence. All the spies and assassins, and for the most part it suited her. There was only one thing that Leo didn't understand, and it was the fact that Razi was a very direct fighter. That wasn't exactly a quality to be valued in a spy or assassin. He remembered his training with her as a boy, as she had prepared for a raid on Albrook. "Now look," she had said, pointing to the map of the city, "Albrook is a port city, it has multitudes of canals running criss-cross all through it. What most of the other officers—including General Tarin—will tell you is the best strategy for taking Albrook down is to poison the water. However, Leo—" She had turned to face him, "—I don't ever want to hear of you poisoning someone. Poison is the coward's weapon. And I don't train cowards."_

                Well, General Tarin was long since dead. But it had always bothered him. If Razi detested poisons so much, why did she head the assassins? Rumor had it that it was poison that had killed the previous King of Figaro, and maybe even the Queen, as well. If that was truly the case, and Razi had stayed true to her words, she must have been pretty pissed off when she found out. Of course, that had been eight long years ago. He looked up toward the ceiling. He and his life sure had changed a lot since then. Clouds of smoke hung above his chair and he sighed. Razi and those damn cigarettes. She sure hadn't changed much in those eight years. He looked back down at her. She hadn't even _aged._

                That in itself was the single most potent element of Razi's undisputed authority. Gestahl gave her a very, very long leash, and let her do pretty much whatever she wanted. Kefka never challenged or insulted her, at least not to her face. The other officers obeyed her without question, and nobody ever contested her decisions. The reasons why? Ask anyone that question and they'd all answer with the same question: "How _old is she?"_

                Fourteen years ago, when Razi had chosen him to be her student in officer's training, she had looked to be in her mid-twenties. Now, over a decade later, she still looked to be in her mid-twenties. Once Leo had checked her service record. It was older than he was. She couldn't be twenty-some years old and have served for over twenty-four years. There was something just incredibly...not _right about her._

                Leo closed his eyes for a moment, then checked the ashtray. Ten cigarette butts, now.

*              *              *

                At the end of the workday, Lilean walked sulkily home, slowly swinging her bag from side to side. She couldn't believe it. _Do I _look_ like a tour guide?_ She thought to herself. Even though her day had gone well otherwise, she was still hung up over the fact that she had to lead King Edgar around the next week. _What rotten luck._

                Lilean looked up at the Imperial Palace as she passed it. She paused. _It's such a spectacularly ugly thing,_ she thought. The steel stronghold never ceased to simultaneously amaze and offend her senses. She shook her head and, after a moment's hesitation sat down on one of the dozens of steps that led up to Gestahl's castle. Lilean rested her chin in her hand and sighed. It was about five o'clock, but Summer Solstice was approaching and there was still a good three or more hours left of daylight. _I don't want to go home yet, _Lilean thought, but she had no idea what else she might do during that time.

                Out of the corner of her eye Lilean thought she caught sight of a familiar figure. She looked, to be sure, then grinned and jumped to her feet.

                "Leo! Leo!" Lilean frantically waved an arm.

                The young general stopped and looked over at the call of his name.

                "Hi, Lilean. How has your day been?" he asked, walking up to her.

                Lilean paused.

                "Actually, it kind of blew."

                "Well..." Leo hadn't exactly expected that response, but, "...as a matter of fact, mine did too."

                "Really?" Lilean seemed to cheer up, "I'm glad to hear that!"

                "I'm sure. So, um, what's up?"

                "Nothing really." Lilean sighed and sat down again. "Actually, I'm bored, and I was wondering what to do with the rest of my day when you walked by."

                Leo sat down next to her and smiled. "I've got an idea," he said.

                Lilean looked over at him. "What's that?"

                "I know a nice little café where we could go get some dinner. It's quite a walk from here, though."

                Immediately Lilean brightened. "That's fine. Let's go!"

                The streets of Vector crowded as people were let off work for the day. All seemed to have much the same sentiment as Lilean—why go home on such a beautiful afternoon? Everywhere people of all types conversed and laughed—commoners, soldiers, officers, even some Figaran guards from King Edgar's escort. As Lilean looked around at all this, she began to notice quite a few people looking back, expressions of curiosity and confusion flashing across their faces. Suddenly Lilean became painfully aware of the distinguished, handsome general walking at her side. _How strange it must look—an unrecognizable fifteen-year-old girl accompanied by one of the world's most successful military commanders!_ She bit her lip and stared down at the sidewalk as she walked. As if to add to the incongruity of it all it also occurred to Lilean that, while her uniform was nearly solid white, Leo, still wearing his formal attire, was clad almost entirely in black.

                "Lilean, are you okay?" Lilean snapped her head up to see Leo standing a few paces in front of her and smiling kindly. Unwittingly, she had stopped walking.

                Lilean blushed under Leo's gaze. "I just…people were looking at me funny."

                Leo laughed. "Well, that's because of your hair, of course! How many people do you see with rose-pink hair? Not to mention braided pigtails down to their knees!" He chuckled some more.

                Poor Lilean flushed to crimson at that and bowed her head further. Leo didn't realize…

                "Oh, Lilean, I didn't mean to embarrass you. You're unique—and I think you're hair is very pretty." He reached out and traced a lock that framed her face with his fingers. "Now, let's hurry, I don't know about you but I'm starving!"

                Lilean chewed at her thumb but allowed herself to be led on by Leo. Her mind raced. _Was he flirting with me? With _me_?_ No, that wasn't it. She didn't know what it was, but something told her beyond a shadow of a doubt that he most certainly hadn't been flirting. She relaxed, but still felt a bit jittery.

                Leo looked down at Lilean, who was lost in her own world. He smiled. _She's so funny! _he thought to himself, _Gods, it's nice to be able to see someone around here like that._ He looked up toward the sky and sighed. _I wish I really did have a little sister, though…_

                A few more minutes walking and they reached the café Leo had spoken of. It was a bit out of the way, a few blocks off the main thoroughfare and into the more residential, southern area of Vector. Leo opened the door and ushered her inside—he could see she was still uncomfortable. He frowned slightly. What could be bothering her so?

                A perky waitress showed them to their seats. Leo's presence caused a bit of a stir within the café, Lilean noticed. People's head's whirled around and she even caught a few whispered comments but, thankfully, none referring to her.

                "Here you are, Sir, Miss," the waitress said with a bright smile as Leo and Lilean took their seats. She handed them their menus and asked, "Would you like to hear the specials?"

                Absently Leo nodded and the waitress happily rattled off all of the offerings for the day. Lilean listened half-heartedly, but nothing caught her fancy.

                "All right then, I'll be back in a few minutes to take your orders." The waitress walked purposefully off, her high heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Lilean glanced over the lists of dishes, chose something at random, and placed her menu back on the table.

                "Quick thinker, you are, Lilean," Leo said, still reviewing the menu. "Well, I'm not feeling particularly creative today, so I think I'll just get some pasta." He put his menu down and glanced at her. Noting her absent stare out the window he asked, "Oh, come on, Lilean. What's bothering you?"

                She hesitated a moment before replying, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She didn't really want to tell him the truth.

                "Well…" she began, "like I told you, I guess I just had a bad day."

                "What was so bad about it?"

                "I found out I have to give King Edgar Figaro a tour of the Magitek Factory next week. Me! Cid says the King deserves a tour from an official, but he won't do it himself, and technically I'm not an official of _anything_ yet!" Lilean huffed and rested her chin on her hand, scowling stubbornly. "This sucks. Why do I get stuck with this lousy grunt work?"

                The corner of Leo's mouthed twitched. "Well, Lilean, it…it might not be as bad as you think. Maybe…Edgar will turn out to be a really nice guy."

                Mentally Leo kicked himself.

                "I've heard he's the worst kind of womanizer…" Lilean half-mumbled.

                Leo thought of Edgar's glances at Razi during their meeting. Anybody who checked her out had to be crazy. He decided not to mention it.

                "Well, Lilean, there's nothing anybody can really do about it. If Cid's said so, then that's that. But, well, d'you know what I do when I've had some bad news?"

                Lilean sniffed. "Yeah."

                Leo arched an eyebrow, half amused, half afraid. "Oh? You…do?"

                "You go down to that bar by the barracks, order yourself a scotch on the rocks, and drink away your troubles like a man. I've tried that. The guy says I have to be sixteen. Which I will be, soon."

                _Lord help us_, Leo thought, wincing. _And I've only done that once…_

                "That's…not exactly what I meant, Lilean."

                "Oh." Lilean looked up, "then what _did_ you mean?"

                Leo sighed. "I meant that you should try and look on the bright side. You can't wallow in your problems, believe me. Look, I just spent all day stuck in a little room with Razi, Kefka, Emperor Gestahl, and yes, King Edgar, discussing politics—of all things—and I'm still alive. I'm probably even a better person for it."

                Lilean's eyes twinkled as though she were about to laugh. Then she did. She grinned at him.

                "You're really reaching, Leo."

                Leo shrugged helplessly. So he had been, but he smiled nonetheless. He opened his mouth to say something, but their enthusiastic waitress appeared, pen and tablet in hand.

                "Are you two ready to order?"


	4. Crime

Chapter 3

Monday. What a day. Lilean looked up at the daunting building that was the Magitek Factory and let out a long, defeated sigh. Almost six years ago, when she was ten, she had been placed in the program here to become a Magitek Engineer. For all six of those years she had been exploring and working in the Factory nearly every day and she still didn't know everything there was to know about it.

                _So how the heck am I supposed to give this guy a "thorough" tour like Cid wants?_

                A little voice told her that if she didn't hurry up and go in she would be late, and she wouldn't want _that to happen, now would she?_

                She saluted the guards as she passed them by. Neither of them moved a muscle. Lilean wondered, and not for the first time, if they would even notice if some unauthorized person just waltzed on in. Inside, the Factory was lit with harsh fluorescent light; there were no windows. Lilean shivered almost imperceptibly as she passed out of the sun and beyond the steel walls. She had worked so long in the Factory that she didn't notice it anymore, but the thick, stale air of the "Devil's Lab"—as the Factory was often called—left no one truly at ease.

                Lilean's shoes clanged lightly against the metal mesh floor of the corridor. She was alone—the Factory was as of yet deserted. She trotted lightly up a flight of stairs to another wing of the building where the offices of supervising personnel could be found. Cid's was at the end of the hallway. Her pace slowed, and her feet dragged. _I really don't want to do this…_

                At the doorway to the last office before Cid's Lilean paused, and couldn't help smiling. The shades to the window were drawn, so she couldn't see inside, but she knew that this office was empty save for a few bookshelves and a desk. On the door was taped a note: "Reserved for Lieutenant Sette." This would be her office—as soon as she was promoted. At the thought her heart leaped a little, December sixth was this coming Sunday! For a moment her gloomy mood lifted and she forgot all about her assignment as Edgar's tour-guide. For a brief moment.

                The door to Cid's office banged open a little violently. "Are you going to just stand and stare all day like a love-struck idiot at your future office?"

                Lilean started and turned to face Cid rather incredulously. The last time she'd ever heard him use that tone of voice was when she and Celes had painted Supervisor Dwinell's office pink, when they were twelve. She hadn't the faintest idea what could have gotten Cid so mad already.

                "Okay, Cid, I'm coming…" Her eyes strayed to a clock on the wall. It read seven twenty. Lilean's jaw dropped. Twenty minutes late? How could she be twenty minutes late? She had left fifteen minutes early! She checked her own watch. The hands were stuck at six forty-five. She groaned to herself. Today was not going to be a good day.

Cid shut the office door behind them.

                By Cid's desk stood a tall, well-dressed man. His long blond hair was tied back into a neat ponytail with a purple bow, his clothes were perfectly matched without a wrinkle to be detected, and his black boots were so polished Lilean could see her face reflected in them.

                She hated to admit it, but he looked every bit a king.

                "Good morning, your Majesty," Cid said cheerfully.

                Edgar turned to face them. "Good morning, Cid," he answered, not quite as happily as Cid. He was...polite.

                "This is Lilean Sette," Cid continued, "the soon-to-be lieutenant of the Magitek Factory. She has volunteered to be your tour guide."

                Lilean could have screamed. _Volunteered?_

                Edgar nodded. "Good morning, young lady," he said, turning towards Lilean.

                His eyes lit up at the sight of her, and he smiled brightly.

                Lilean scowled.

                _I'll "good morning" you, fruitcake, _she thought. An awkward pause followed.

                "Lilean," Cid said raising his eyebrows. "Aren't you going to..._say anything?"_

                Without warning Lilean jumped forward and bowed exaggeratedly. "Good morning to you, as well, your Majesty. I trust you slept well."

                "Oh, very," Edgar responded, a little too brightly.

                Cid seemed at a loss for words. Lilean continued.

                "I welcome you to our humble Magic Factory."

                "That's Magi_tek Factory, Lilean," Cid corrected her._

                She ignored him, continuing to bow ridiculously low, a stupid, silly smile plastered across her features.

                "Um, well, I believe you can get started with your tour now," Cid said, faltering, clearly at a bit of a loss.

                Edgar was regarding Lilean in the same way one might regard a swearing sailor's parrot.

                "As you wish, sir!" Lilean answered cheerfully, still bent over, "certainly, sir!"

                Giving his student one last bewildered look, the Head Scientist turned and left.

                "May I wipe your ass, sir?" This time, Lilean's cheerful response was said through clenched teeth.

                "Well, alright now," she said, straightening up. "Let's go already." She turned to exit Cid's office, then paused at the door, "Oh, and, your Majesty, do me a favor, and don't screw around. If you get yourself into trouble, don't expect me to get you out of it."

                Edgar raised an eyebrow, but followed her silently out into the corridor.

                "I'm not sure if Cid mentioned it when you arrived," Lilean began in a flat tone, "but this hallway is where most of the offices are located. There are also small supervisory offices on each floor of the Factory, for managerial purposes."

                "He did say so," Edgar replied smoothly, "and he also said that that one back there—" be pointed behind them— "was going to be yours. Congratulations on your promotion."

                Lilean stopped and blinked a little. _Hey, maybe this guy isn't so bad after all…_

                "Why thank you, your majesty," she started to say, but was interrupted.

                "So, then—Lilean, isn't it?" Edgar said, leaning down close to her, his voice becoming silken and saccharine before her very ears, "See, while I—most unfortunately—have an engagement for lunch this afternoon, I am free of all obligations for dinner this evening. It would be a tragedy indeed if I were forced to spend it all alone, and I can assure you that I would truly delight in the company of such a lovely creature as yourself. What do you say?"

                During the time of his little speech Edgar had managed to slip an arm around Lilean's shoulders and draw her ever-so-slightly closer to him. A faint scent of flowers filled her nostrils. Edgar's ridiculously blue eyes shone with innocent, noble intent.

If Lilean wasn't such a cynic, she might have accepted.

_Guess I was wrong,_ she chided herself. Out loud she said, rather haughtily, "With all due respect, your majesty, you can go sit on a tack. Come along, I have a tour to give."

                She turned and pushed open the door to the Magitek Factory, and Edgar followed. If she had looked behind her, she might have noted his rueful smile.

*              *              *

                Lilean led the King up stairs, down stairs, across catwalks that straddled seemingly bottomless, smoking pits, through tunnels that descended far into the ground, through hidden doors and trapdoors, up elevators and lifts, past offices and engine rooms, and through nearly every twist in the maze-like production center. She stopped periodically to explain the functions of certain machines, state the history of certain rooms, or answer Edgar's frequent questions in a bored manner. She was in hell.

                Edgar was in heaven.

                He acted like a kid in a candy shop, wide eyed and full of curiosity. King Edgar Figaro was noted and admired for handling his kingdom with wisdom beyond his young age of twenty-five. But here one could see that the fascination of a boyhood hobby had not quite been outgrown.

                "...And here we have our latest piece of equipment, a full suit of mobile armor capable of being worn and handled by every single one of our current Magitek Knights, as well as those in training. It contains three offensive devises, "Fire Beam," "Ice Beam," and "Bolt Beam," each of which contains elements pertaining to their name. Duh. There's also one recovery item, another magic beam called "Heal Force." It can be used on the pilot himself or any of his comrades within range. However, as you can see the armor is still quite bulky, and therefore clumsy, and we've been having problems with unexpected internal explosions during testing, too, much to the chagrin of the soldiers doing the testing. Anyway, in short, this is still a prototype, and should remain so for a while, but upon completion, this should become one of our greatest achievements ever."

                Upon finishing her speech, Lilean yawned. "Any questions, King Edgar?"

                Edgar nodded, eyes wide with rapt attention. "Just one, Lilean."

                Lilean raised her eyebrows.   
                "I was wondering what that smaller machine over there does."

                He pointed to the left. Lilean followed his gaze.

                "Oh, that." She turned to him and swept her hand grandly. "That's the Mister Coffee."

                "...Oh."

                Lilean bowed a little. "You can have some if you like, your Majesty. Regular, Decaff, or Unleaded."

                Edgar stared at her. "'Unleaded?'"

                "It's a factory, sir."

                "I...think I'll pass on the coffee."

                Lilean shrugged. "As you wish."

                The tour continued.

Of course, the King never was one to get too caught up in his first hobby so as to forget the second, a pastime that also seemed to occupy most of the young men his age. King Edgar, however, was an extreme.

                "Good day, young lady, what might your name be?" was a phrase Lilean came to know better than any other in the hours she led the King around. The Magitek Factory was full of workers, a good deal of them female, as Edgar quickly noticed. Lilean wondered how Cid could have ever thought it a good idea for a girl to give Edgar the tour...wouldn't that be like asking a deer to walk into the lair of a wolf? But then again, Lilean was the future lieutenant, and it seemed as if one snub had been good enough for the King. He didn't try her again, and fortunately, most of the other young female workers were either too smart or too occupied with what they were doing to pay attention to His Royal Highness.

                Lilean closed her eyes and mouthed a silent prayer to herself as she led Edgar down one wide iron catwalk. Thank the gods, thank them, thank them! All she had to do was get through this one, last speech—and it would all be over. The light at the end of the tunnel shone bright and steady. She exhaled. This was within her capabilities.

                As the young engineer paced quickly and impatiently along, she sidestepped one absent-minded looking, lavender-haired girl, not even giving her a second glance or a passing thought. Lilean was concentrating much too hard on convincing herself that she could actually do this one last task without falling into many violent and temperamental pieces. Unfortunately for her, Edgar wasn't quite so focused. The soft, girlish beauty of the idle worker caught the King's attention, and he stopped.

                Lilean didn't notice.

                "Good day, young lady, what might your name be?" Edgar's winning tone of voice was accompanied by just as winning a smile and just the right amount of sparkle in his eyes.

                The girl looked up nervously.

                "Are...are you talking to...me?" she asked, nervously pointing at herself.

                "But of course, my dear, I don't see any other pretty girls around, do you?"

                And in truth, there weren't.

*              *              *

                "So here we are at the last point of interest in our tour, King Edgar," Lilean began. "This is our personal junk room, just a small storage place for waste parts until they can be moved to somewhere more convenient or recycled..."

                Lilean trailed off.

                Why was it so silent...?

                She turned around—

                --And discovered that she was all alone.

                And talking to herself.

                "Oh, _hell."_

*              *              *

                King Edgar had managed to get a conversation of a sort going with his young lady of choice. She was shy and rather innocent, and very much flattered by Edgar's attention. He figured that if he kept at it, he might have a chance with this one. He now knew that she was originally from Tzen, she had been sent to Vector in a mandatory enlistment program, and now she was a factory worker at the MRF. It figured why; she didn't seem to be exactly the brightest candle in the window. But she was cheerful, and sweet, and Edgar was interested. Who needed intelligence in a one-night stand? In fact, who even _wanted it?_

                He had made up his mind to invite this girl out to dinner tonight with him (and hopefully subsequently to bed; the offer Lilean had refused) when a factory director stormed up, obviously not happy.

                "Maureanna! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

                The lavender-haired girl turned white, "I-I'm sorry, sir, I was just talking to this young man here..."

                The director glared at Edgar with one bleary eye.

                "Yeah, whatever Maureanna. That shit don't work up here. Go down to Level B and get back to work. A boiler blew and it's a real pisser of a mess."

                Maureanna hung her head. "Yes, sir," she replied meekly. She timidly followed her commanding officer down the catwalk and out of site.

                "Damn," said Edgar. Then he shrugged. There were plenty of fish in the sea. He turned to Lilean.

                "Lilean, I believe we can be on our way, now..."

                She was nowhere to be seen.

*              *              *

                Lilean's hands were clamped around her pigtails, one for each, and she pulled hard on both of them as she turned her face to the ceiling and opened her mouth wide in a silent shriek.

                "Why, why, WHY?" she demanded of the ceiling. "WHY!" It was no longer a question. She glared at suddenly offending steel beams and, making a quick decision, yelled for real, long and loud. After she lost her breath and voice, she let go of her pigtails and looked down, panting for breath. She felt marginally better. With a resolved sigh, she checked her watch. There was nothing for it, the bastard had well and truly managed to get himself lost and she would have to go and find him. It was now ten to ten. Cid had said Edgar had a lunch engagement at twelve thirty. That left her a glorious two and a half hours to find him. Trying not to start hyperventilating, Lilean turned stiffly around and headed back into the Factory to retrace her steps.

                "I just hope he's had the sense to stay in one place," she muttered.

*              *              *

                Edgar slowly rotated three-hundred and sixty degrees for the sixth time. It had been confirmed. Lilean had vanished. He stood, blinking, pondering the situation. Well, Lilean had deserted him, Maureanna had been carted off by her supervising officer, and he, King Edgar, had a lunch meeting in two and a half hours. What to do? Well, he couldn't just hang around on the catwalk, could he? He looked down over the railings. It was a _long_ way down to…whatever. He couldn't see the floor. If there even was a floor. Edgar's head swam a little. He backed away slowly and looked down the walkway. Well, he and Lilean had been heading _that_ way before they stopped and Lilean vanished. Edgar took a step in what he believed to be the right direction, then another, than another. He felt better already. As he walked, a small, intelligent voice in the back of his mind suggested that it might not be such a bright idea to walk off blindly into the huge, maze-like factory, but he brushed it calmly away. How many times had he gotten "lost" in the catacombs of Figaro castle? And how many times had he managed to find his way triumphantly out? _Once_, the intelligent voice replied, _the other times your parents sent someone looking for you._ Again Edgar ignored the misgiving and plunged boldly into the unknown.

*              *              *

                An hour had passed. Lilean stood listlessly staring at the floor, the top of her head pressed against the wall. She had retraced every single step of the tour at lightning speed—even some of the immediate corridors branching off from the main route—but Edgar had been nowhere to be found. It was hopeless. He was gone. Where, she had no idea. Just gone. She closed her eyes. The hall of offices was just around the corner and Lilean was not looking forward to reporting to Cid. She could just picture him, sitting behind his desk, slowly turning a mottled purple color as she related the tale. Cid didn't get angry very easily, but when he did it was like watching a suit of Magitek Armor malfunction and go haywire. Everything within reach was leveled. Lilean had spent a large part of her childhood and internship under Cid experimenting with just how far she could push him until he fell over the edge, and she knew with certainty that, in this case, he would go straight over and down.

                "But it's not my _fault_!" she said aloud angrily. It just wasn't fair. Edgar had not kept up with her, and then he'd been stupid enough to go wander off on his own in the Factory. In the _Factory._ Lilean didn't even know how big it was—she doubted Cid did, either. It had just always sort of…expanded. She couldn't recall the last time anyone had actually planned the expansions, it just seemed to happen that one day someone would be wandering down in an obscure corridor and discover a new storage complex or something. Lilean groaned. Edgar was somewhere in there, and she had to find him.

                Then—as Lilean stood, head still pressed up against the wall, eyes still staring listlessly down at the floor, it came to her. An impish, clever little voice that had been her constant companion during her childhood—and still was.

                _Who says you _have _to go find him?_

                Lilean stood up straight, blinking. And then, without a second thought or qualm of any sort, she tiptoed passed the entrance to the hallway of offices, and marched defiantly out of the Magitek Factory. _To hell with it all_, she thought, _and for all the trouble, I'm taking the rest of the day off._

*              *              *

                Leo tapped his fingers impatiently on the table. The King was now nearly fifteen minutes late, and Leo was not at all pleased. Across from him Celes sat silently reading a magazine, immobile save for when she turned a page. Leo rested his chin in his hand and glared around at the up-scale restaurant. He had again forced himself to put on his formal uniform, for him quite a painful undertaking. Miraculously, Celes had as well, and it had been a bit of a shock for Leo to find her clad in black for once, instead of the yellow uniform of a Magitek Knight she usually wore. She appeared completely impervious to the tardiness of King Edgar, but Leo made no attempt to hide his agitation. He might have put a bit more effort into patience had he actually liked the King, but, alas, he did not.

                "I don't think he's going to come," he said finally.

                Celes glanced up at him. "Are you certain?" she replied, almost lazily.

                "It's nearly one o'clock, and we haven't seen heads or tails of him. He could've at least sent a messenger or something if he wasn't going to come."

                "By 'almost one o'clock,' you do mean twelve forty-five, don't you?"

                "Well…yeah."

                "That's not almost."

                "Hmph."

                Celes' mouth twitched up a little. Leo was renowned throughout Vector for his patience and tolerance. _If only they could see him now…_ she thought ruefully. He really _didn't _like Edgar, though heaven only knew why. _Perhaps…_ Celes frowned slightly. She thought of the attentions Edgar showered on women, most ignored him or spurned him outright but he took it all in stride and never seemed put off by it. Moreover, he _did_ land one every now and again. Celes couldn't remember Leo _ever_ having a girlfriend, though most would be willing enough, she assumed. _So perhaps…perhaps Leo's jealous?_ The idea seemed silly. Why would he be? Celes was sure there were dozens of girls just dying for a date with the gallant general. _But then…why do I never see him with one?_ Of course, it could just be that Leo was fanatically secret about it. _That's gotta be it. He's got a girlfriend somewhere, and he's just trying to avoid undue and unwanted attention._

                Celes snorted. The idea was ridiculous.

                "Bless you," Leo said.

                "Oh, uh, thanks," she answered. She surprised herself. Her mind barely ever drifted off like that. Still, the more she thought about it, the more puzzling it seemed.

                "Hey, Celes," Leo said, "could I ask you something?"

                "I guess," she shrugged. "Go ahead."

                Leo leaned across the table toward her with a conspiratorial grin, suddenly looking very boyish. "I wanna know how the heck you managed to get out of that meeting the day Edgar arrived. Teach me your trick for next time."

                Celes looked at him, amused.

                " I just said I had important work that needed attending to and couldn't wait. I had to be present to greet the King, though, of course."

                Leo blinked. This solution had never occurred to him.

                Celes, divining this, said, "You never think just to _lie_, do you?"

                Leo shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Um, no." He didn't. This was too much. "To hell with the King," he said, standing quickly, "I'm leaving."

                "Pressing work to do, Leo?" Celes said, lifting an eyebrow.

                "Exactly."

*              *              *

                Lilean marched out resolutely toward the shooting range, bow in hand, quiver full of arrows on her back. She smiled. It had been a long while since she had last practiced her archery—she felt a twinge of guilt. The bow had always been her favorite weapon, oh, she did well enough in fencing but she hadn't truly taken to it. There were certain unfortunate limitations to archery though, such as its utter uselessness in close combat. But that in no way diminished Lilean's preference.

                Arriving at the range, Lilean picked a target set at ten meters on which to warm up. She noted that the field was relatively deserted—all the better. No one would get in her way. Pulling an arrow from her quiver, Lilean nocked an arrow to her bowstring and took aim. The bowstring snapped back with a low twang and the arrow hummed through the air to plant itself well above the bulls-eye.

                "Bleah," Lilean said, as much about her bowstring as about her marksmanship. The tension on the string was much looser than was her preference, she could tell by the tone when plucked. "I should have checked before I left," she muttered. She unstrung the bow and restrung it, plucking the string and testing the sound as solemnly as any violinist would his instrument. When the tone met her satisfaction, she let fly another arrow. It still landed well off mark, but with a good deal more power than before. Lilean grinned. _That_ was more like it! She warmed up until she was effortlessly hitting the bulls-eye at ten meters, then moved up in distance.

                "Thirty meters," she said absently. The bulls-eye was just a blue smudge on the target, which also looked tiny at this distance. Lilean drew back and released an arrow…which flew well over the target and a long ways behind it.

                "GODDAMN IT!" Lilean yelled. What rotten luck. Picking up her quiver, and making sure the coast was clear of other archers' flying arrows, Lilean trudged after her own. After a few minutes she reached the target. The arrow was nowhere to be seen. _Well what did you expect?_ she told herself. It had been a strong shot. Fortunately, there was no wind, so all she had to do was keep walking in a straight line past the target and she should find it. She felt rather miffed at having to do this, the law that required all archers at the range to account for all of their arrows was rather new, instated after a near-fatal accident involving Kefka. Emperor Gestahl's chief advisor had _not _been happy.

                Lilean jogged over the lawn, scanning the grass for her rogue arrow. The shooting range was west of the palace, and faced the gardens. Lilean could see the low stone wall a few hundred meters up ahead and she hoped fervently that her arrow hadn't cleared it. It would be a pain to climb the wall, low as it was.

                As she approached, Lilean's hopes fell. The arrow nowhere in sight, it was obvious that if had flown over the wall. She groaned.

                "Great, now I'm going to have to climb it."

                The wall wasn't built very high, but Lilean was rather short and it was still above her head. She scanned it for a moment, backed off a few paces, then dashed for it and jumped.

                "OUMPH!" Lilean very nearly had the wind knocked out of her as her stomach hit the edge of the stones. Gasping for breath, she scrambled for a grip before slithering over the wall. Fortunately the garden grounds were raised above the lawn's level so she didn't have as far to fall as she'd had to jump.

                She leaned against the wall for a moment to catch her breath, glad to have gotten over it on the first try, and even more glad that she had changed out of her white uniform before her practice session. As her breathing returned to normal she stood and began walking through the garden in the continuing straight line.

                "Gotta be around here somewhere…" she muttered as she swung her head from side to side, checking the bushes. This particular garden was filled with fragrant herb bushes, some taller than she was. After a bit of walking, Lilean decided that she didn't really mind chasing her arrow halfway across Vector, even if it meant scaling the occasional wall, after all, it was a gorgeous day, warm and sunny with blue skies and not a cloud to be seen. She felt decidedly sorry for the residents of the Northern Continent; it was currently winter there.

                As Lilean approached another low stone wall (this one, however, with a gate) she distinctly heard a voice. She approached the gate for a look. She couldn't see through the bars, the speaker was hidden behind another giant bush. Who was it? Lilean could hear her more clearly now—it was definitely a woman, an older woman, as the voice sounded mature, but not yet elderly.

                "Oh, my," she was saying, musing, "this is quite an unpleasant shock. But it won't be too difficult to fix up, fortunately."

                Lilean, puzzled, pushed open the gate and carefully shut it behind her, then peered around the corner of the bush.

                She found herself face to face with General Razi.

                Razi must have been surprised, but her face registered nothing. Instead, she looked down at Lilean with a critical eye. Lilean stood, unspeaking, shocked and shrinking a bit under the fantastically tall general's stare. It wasn't often that she found herself at such a loss for words and so vulnerable-feeling. Lilean had heard of General Razi, of course, and seen her from a distance, but she had never met her. Neither Leo nor Cid spoke much of her and she hardly had any contact with Celes anymore. The rumors that circulated in Vector about Razi were numerous—more existed about her than about any other officer, even Celes—and ranged from the slightly freakish to completely outrageous. Nearly all were negative. It was hardly surprising then, that Lilean quailed at the encounter.

                "Lilean Sette, isn't it?" Razi asked. Her voice was commanding, every bit that of a general's.

                Lilean nodded and managed to stammer out a, "Yes, Ma'am."

                "Sir," Razi corrected. Lilean said nothing but her eyes must have betrayed surprise because Razi continued, "I am accustomed to being addressed as 'Sir.' "

                "Yes, Sir."

                Razi cast another critical look at Lilean, as if appraising her.

                "Well," she said, "I suppose then you must be the one responsible for this?"

                Until then Lilean hadn't noticed what she carried in her hand—a large, glossy raven, with an arrow through its wing.

                Lilean's eyes widened at the sight. The bird cast one evil-looking, yellow eye in her direction and squawked angrily. Her gut reaction was to deny the charges, but she realized with a sinking feeling that with a bow slung across her shoulders and a quiver full of arrows with fletching matching that of the one through the raven's wing across her back, there was no point in denying anything. At least she had found her missing arrow.

                "I—um, yes, that is my arrow, Sir," Lilean replied sullenly. This was it. She was done for.

                Razi cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes at Lilean. That appraising look again. Lilean could have sworn that Razi was sizing her up.

                "You are a magic user, are you not?" demanded the general.

                "Yes, Sir, I am," Lilean answered, looking up, a bit surprised. It was common knowledge—every one of the students in the Magitek Factory was infused upon starting their courses. It was considered a necessary precaution in cases of malfunctioning Magitek Armor.

                "Which Esper was yours, Miss Sette?"

                "Ifrit, Sir." The Esper of fire.

                "But you know Cure, as well as the fire spells." It wasn't a question.

                "Yes, Sir." Lilean shifted uncomfortably under the general's unblinking stare. Another precaution, _every_ magic user in Vector knew at least Cure.

                "Well, then, I believe you can make up for the damage. Hold out your wing, Kali."

                The raven obediently stretched out the punctured wing without even so much as a squawk of complaint. Razi carefully removed the offending arrow, pulling it back out the way it had come in so as to avoid pulling the fletching through the wound. Lilean suddenly found herself extremely glad that these were just sharpened practice arrows, and not the wickedly barbed things used in battle.

                Razi held Kali, the raven, out to Lilean and raised her eyebrows. Her face betrayed no hint of emotion, but Lilean knew what was expected of her. Cupping her hands over the bleeding wound in the raven's wing—they were practically shaking, she was so nervous— she muttered the incantation to the spell.

                "Cure," she spoke at length, nearly whispering, and before her eyes the blood dried, and the wound closed. After a few seconds, it was impossible to tell the wing had been hurt at all. Kali gave a great shriek of delight and flapped her wings, flying up to her mistress' shoulder, where she stayed, her powerful talons gripping Razi's black uniform.

                Lilean lowered her hands. She was immensely relieved, and she was sure it showed. Her hands still trembled slightly and she had the mad urge to step on both of them, but she remained immobile.

                "Good work, Miss Sette," Razi said, handing Lilean back her arrow, still caked in blood. "And I don't think I need tell you to watch your aim more carefully from now on, when you practice." She stroked the raven's glossy black feathers absently. "I'm not sure Kali would take very kindly to another arrow through her wing."

                Again the raven fixed Lilean with a malevolent glare, and her throat went dry.

                "Y-yes, Sir," she stammered. The hairs prickled on the back of her neck and she couldn't help the sneaking suspicion that Kali could understand every word they said.

                "You are dismissed, Miss Sette."

                Lilean bowed—something she almost never did but which seemed appropriate in the situation—and turned to leave. She wanted nothing more than to run headlong out of the garden and as far away from General Razi as possible, but she forced herself to walk as deliberately as she could, trying to retain the shreds of her dignity. But then…something stopped her. An insatiable curiosity overcame her, and though it terrified her to do so, she turned around, crouched down, and crept back toward where Razi still stood, taking care to remain hidden by the bushes.

                Razi was reaching into her jacket, and as Lilean watched she removed a sealed envelope. Lilean squinted, but couldn't make out the crest imprinted on the dark red wax. For some inexplicable reason, she felt sure that it wasn't the black rose of Vector. Wordlessly, Razi held up the envelope, and Kali jumped from her shoulder, seized the envelope in her talons and flew away to the northeast. Razi watched the bird until it was nothing more than a black speck in the sky, then turned to leave. Lilean crept away before the general could find her, making sure to take the most roundabout path back to the city she could. She shivered at the close call. Lucky she had been able to heal that bird. If she hadn't…Lilean didn't even want to imagine what the consequences might have been.

                As she made her way back to her room at the officer's barracks, something began to haggle in her mind. There was something Razi had said, it hadn't sounded right, she was sure…that was it!

                _"Oh my, this is quite an unpleasant shock. But it won't be too difficult to fix up, fortunately…"_

                How could that be? By the time Razi would have been able to make it back to the city to find a healer, the wound would have clotted, even if she had removed the arrow ahead of time. The Cure spell wasn't powerful enough to heal a wound that had already clotted, it needed to be fresh. And to Lilean's knowledge, nobody in Vector had yet developed a more powerful healing spell. She would know, too, if somebody had, she had access to all of the records in Cid's office. Something occurred to Lilean. _She couldn't have…there was no way she could have known I was there._ But, Lilean realized with an unpleasant start, it was either that or someone in Vector had indeed managed to develop the next level Cure spell. She found herself hoping desperately for the latter explanation, but she found herself unable to quell her doubts.

*              *              *

                Out in the sunshine, away from the restaurant and the diplomatic formalities required of a general, Leo felt better.  He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. Well, no matter what Celes thought, he did have real work to do and he would be glad to get it done early. Even so, he was still very annoyed that Edgar had unceremoniously decided to just abandon his lunch meeting. It was _very_ rude. 

Leo strolled around Vector, heading in the general direction of his office but taking his time. There was no rush. As he walked, he noticed someone hurrying up to him. A familiar, short, round person in a yellow raincoat.

"Hey, Cid," he said, "What's up? You still wear that thing, even when it's sunny?"

                Cid glared at him in mock annoyance.

                "I _always _wear it," he replied. Leo laughed.

                "Actually, Leo," Cid continued, creasing his brows in concern, "I just spotted you and was wondering if you'd seen Lilean at all today. I haven't seen her since seven-fifteen, when she left on her tour with King Edgar."

                Leo looked at Cid curiously, "No I haven't seen her. But that's strange, because I'm supposed to be at a lunch meeting with King Edgar right now. He never showed up."

                "That's…right," Cid said thoughtfully, "I _did _think it a bit bizarre when I saw you…it's only about one-fifteen, after all…" He trailed off.

                Leo was considering this situation, too, and he wondered. "Do you think, Cid, no, it's not…like…" But Leo had to admit, it _would _be like her.

                Cid was looking up at him. "What's not like what?"

                "Well, do you think she could have…_lost_ him and decided not to tell you? Or maybe," he added quickly, noticing the color rising in Cid's cheeks at this suggestion, "she's still in there looking for him."

                He couldn't tell whether or not Cid had heard that last part. His face had turned a strange mottled color.

                "Lilean…Sette…" he managed to croak, then fell silent. After a pause, he spoke again, his voice clipped and controlled. "Thank you, Leo." He turned smartly and walked stiffly back in the direction of the Factory.

                Leo winced. "Lilean," he said, "for your sake, if you _did_ lose Edgar in the Factory, I sure as hell hope you're still in there, looking for him."


End file.
